


Confessions

by orphan_account



Series: Coming of Age [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Gen, I am absolute trash, Pre-Captive Prince, pre-Auguste's Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6287335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I needed some air,” he said.</p><p>Auguste’s brows rose. “The training courtyard has air.”</p><p>Laurent’s arms tightened around his thighs, his chin resting atop his knees that were still too knobby for his tastes.</p><p>“Alone,” he said. Though he did not mind his brother’s presence. In fact, he craved it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively: Laurent tells Auguste he's gay as fuck

Laurent had never been fond of sharing. Be it a book or his horse, Laurent had never fully trusted anyone beside his brother to treat them correctly. He would share if he had to, if the occasion called for it. But what he will _never_ be entirely comfortable sharing is his brother.  
  
It was mid-afternoon; Laurent should be in the training courtyard, practising with his sword, but he didn’t have the energy for it today. He sought solitude in a vacant field just beyond the horse stables. A soft breeze blew against him, tangling his golden hair and whispering in his ear.  
  
His mind was heavy with thought. No matter how much he tried to think of something else, his mind always returned to the two young girls in the inner courtyard whose eyes were trained on Auguste as he sparred. The youngest was in complete awe by the swordsmanship, her eyes following every parry and lunge in suspense. But the oldest girl, there was something in her eyes that Laurent had not wanted to address.  
  
Laurent was not stupid, he knew why the girls were here. Auguste had seemed nothing but eager at the idea of the visit, and that only made the unease turn to lead in Laurent’s stomach.  
  
Father wanted Auguste to marry within a summer or two. Laurent knew it had to be done for their legacy. Eventually, Auguste would ascend to the throne, and he would need to promise an heir. Even so, there was a fear that hid in the recesses of Laurent’s mind that worried he would fade out of Auguste’s memory.  
  
“Skipping practise, I see.”  
  
Laurent’s gaze snapped to his right to see Auguste standing beside him. He hadn’t even heard him approach. He claimed the spot next to Laurent and sits down.  
  
“And what is your excuse?”  
  
Auguste’s smile was brighter than the sun beating down on them. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his elbows. The front of his white shirt was damp from sweat.  
  
“It is too hot for a spar today,” Auguste said.  
  
Laurent quirked an eyebrow. “The heat of Akielos is far more severe.” War was soon to be upon them. The south was stirring with trouble that would soon make its way north, no doubt. Laurent had never seen Auguste stand down from a fight simply because of the weather.  
  
“I’ll manage when I get there.” August nodded at Laurent. “And your excuse?”  
  
Laurent rolled his shoulders and returned his gaze to the field before them. His eyes focused on a patch of violets waving between long blades of grass.  
  
“I needed some air,” he said.  
  
Auguste’s brows rose. “The training courtyard has air.”  
  
Laurent’s arms tightened around his thighs, his chin resting atop his knees that were still too knobby for his tastes.  
  
“Alone,” he said. Though he did not mind his brother’s presence. In fact, he craved it.  
  
He swore he could almost feel the rigid tension that settled in Auguste’s chest. He didn’t have to look to know that Auguste’s eyes were trained on him, studying him as if he could pinpoint the problem.  
  
“Have I upset you?”  
  
Sweet, selfless Auguste. Always concerned with the well-being of others, afraid he might have done something to offend. No, Laurent did not believe Auguste could ever do anything to upset him. His intentions were always far too good. Laurent’s anger and hurt would always melt away before they ever had the chance to settle and root themselves.  
  
Laurent shook his head. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.”  
  
“Do you want me to leave?”  
  
“You can stay.”  
  
Auguste shifted so he was lying on his side. The sun cast a halo around his golden mane, his entire being drenched in sunlight.  
  
“Why the melancholy, Brother?”  
  
Laurent pursed his lips. “I’ve been...thinking of the future,” he finally said. He could see the pieces moving together like a puzzle in Auguste’s head.  
  
“Marriage,” Auguste said. Laurent said nothing to confirm, he didn’t have to.  
  
The Patran princesses were pretty. They had flawless skin and hair that looked softer than the finest silk. It had been hinted that the youngest girl would most likely be Laurent’s bride when they came of age, but their arrangement is not what had the kingdom talking.  
  
The eldest girl had more or less been promised to Auguste, a promise that would soon be fulfilled. She would receive a tender love for the rest of her days. One look at Auguste and Laurent knew that he would lose him to her.  
  
Auguste took the silence as his cue to continue.  
  
“Are you not satisfied with the arrangements?”  
  
“They’re pretty,” Laurent said, “but I don’t quite fancy women.”  
  
Instead of soft curves and coy smiles, Laurent often found his mind drifting to hard muscle and hands calloused from the sword. He admired the soldiers’ ability to handle a sword—efficient and strong, fast and graceful—something he hoped he could master one day. But he would by lying if the swordwork was the only thing he admired.  
  
Though it was not uncommon for men to lay with men and vice versa, it was only a temporary solution. As royalty, Laurent was still expected to marry and produce an heir.  
  
Auguste didn’t think much of the confession and laughed. “You’ll grow into it,” he said. The words did not reassure Laurent. Auguste naturally preferred women. He was experienced in intimacy and was confident with his lovers. Laurent was not, he was only thirteen.  
  
“I don’t think I will.” The thought of marrying one of the girls and producing an heir, it made his spine grow cold and his stomach churn.  
  
“You haven’t even given it a chance.”  
  
“And I’m certain I never will.”  
  
“Are you saying...” Auguste’s voice is unreadable for once. Had Laurent been talking to his father, disappointment would surely be laced in his words. But Auguste was not their father, and Laurent could not quite place the emotions in his tone.  
  
Laurent swallowed. “Yes.”  
  
Laurent felt Auguste shift beside him and sit up. His golden hair was falling out of his hair tie and framing his face. His hand was a heavy warmth on Laurent’s shoulder.  
  
“But Brother, it is your duty to continue the line.”  
  
“No, it is the king’s duty.”  
  
“You might be king someday.”  
  
“No.” Laurent shook his head, as if he was trying to expel the thought from his mind. “No, you are to take the throne.”  
  
“I am not invincible, Laurent.” Auguste’s eyes were warm and tired, and Laurent found it difficult to look into them. “There’s still a chance that duty might focus on you.”  
  
Laurent looked away. Death was inevitable, he knew that, but he did not want to think of it. Especially in regards of his brother. Auguste _was_ invincible in his mind. There was no other warrior as great as him; to Laurent, Auguste was undefeatable.  
  
More to himself than Auguste, he said: “I hope that duty never befalls me.”  
  
“Laurent...” Auguste’s voice is laced with warning and...something else. His grip on his shoulder tightens.  
  
“Do you think it selfish of me?” he asked. He valued his brother’s opinion so much that if he told him it terrible, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Auguste shifts and inhales through his nose. Laurent’s ears focus on the sound, attentive and apprehensive.  
  
“I think it’s admirable that you know what you want. Or don’t want, for that matter.” Auguste’s gaze is nothing but kind and understanding when Laurent looks at him, and he feels the tension slowly unwinding from his chest.  
  
“But,” Auguste continued, and the contours of his face hardened in contrast with his tone. “I don’t believe Father can be swayed on his decision.”  
  
Laurent knew that. He never expected anything else to come out of the situation, but he received what he wanted: Auguste’s respect, his blessing.  
  
“Then it can’t be helped,” he said. Auguste squeezed his shoulder before letting go.  
  
“You’re only thirteen, you shouldn’t worry about something so far away. Not yet.”  
  
That was true, but... “But you do.”  
  
“I do,” he said. He quirked a smile and tilted his head. “But I still have a while before that, too. There are more pressing matters at hand than wedding bells.” He reached out and ruffled Laurent’s golden hair, laughing and moving out of reach when Laurent swats him away.  
  
All Laurent could hear was Auguste’s laughter as he fixed his hair, his hands patting down stray hairs. He huffed up at him. The only sign of an apology was a small smile on his brother’s face as he stood.  
  
Auguste offered his hand to Laurent and hoisted him onto his feet. He squeezed his hand for good measure. Looking up at him, tall and glowing in the sunlight, he looked more like a king in that moment. _His_ king.  
  
“For now, you’re stuck with me, Brother,” Auguste said, and his eyes softened once more. “Is your faith in me that little, to think that I would leave you?”  
  
Shock flooded Laurent’s mind. Was he that obvious? His surprise must have been evident on his face because Auguste smiles at him.  
  
“There is not much that you can hide from me, believe it or not. Come on, let’s head back.”  
  
Laurent was not entirely sure if that revelation was good or bad, but for now he didn’t mind. He offered a small smile and let himself be led back to the palace walls.  
  
For just a moment, Laurent forgot about unwelcome proposals and wedding bells. For this moment, his brother was his again.  
  
But never had he thought he would lose him in another way.


End file.
